Yagathmayam by Prasanth ChandranThe Weight of Grey
There is a specific, heavy stillness that arrives just before the monsoon breaks, when the air loses its transparency and turns into something you can almost touch. It is not the sharp, biting clarity of a Nordic winter, but a thick, humid…
The Map of Our Roots
We are all born from a geography we did not choose, yet we spend our lives tracing the lines of our inheritance. There is a particular language written in the skin of those who have held us—a cartography of labor, of seasons endured, and…
Touching the Edge by Jose Juniel Rivera-Negron
I believe this flower is very special, because it was the only one of its kind, plus it was at a garden where I used to live as a child. Took this photo on a small trip I made to a Paradise called Puerto Rico. I like how the long part of the flower which is called the pistil is touching right on the edge line of the photograph.